


Love in the Dark

by EmKomSkaikru



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Birthday Spanking, Dom Lexa, F/F, Fluff, Light BDSM, Sub Clarke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-07-10 08:13:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6975025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmKomSkaikru/pseuds/EmKomSkaikru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lexa has a present for Clarke.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own anything, and the song title is clearly straight from the Adele song.

Clarke sat on the counter, nursing a hangover and a tea she had made last night.

She turned 25 today.

And she was okay with it.

Rain pelted the windows of her loft, and the lights in the kitchen flickered ominously for an odd second. She enjoyed this type of day-- gloomy, dark. It was supposed to continue raining. Clarke brought the chipped mug to her face, taking a cold mouthful with a slight grimace. She set it down next to her. Yawning, she allowed the repetitive patter of rain to lull her into closing her eyes for just a millisecond. 

She jumped violently when a warm body slipped between her legs.

“Did you have a good night, baby?” Lexa whispered, kissing her shoulder. Her hair was messy, soothed into a bun, and she wore the t-shirt and boxers she had on yesterday.

Clarke’s lips blossomed into a smile as her arms slid around Lexa. They kissed, long and slow, before she replied, “Minus watching Raven and Anya eyefuck all night, perfect. Honestly… I can barely remember the end.”

Lexa winced in remembrance, and reminded her, “Octavia and Lincoln walked us home... you rode on my back.” She smiled. “You called me your horse.”

“Right, I think I remember that part. Good thing you lift,” Clarke replied, using sarcasm to mask her mild embarrassment.

“I told you there are benefits. Like this.” Lexa picked her up, and Clarke shrieked (then groaned in regret). “Happy Birthday, Clarke.”

“I love you,” Clarke replied.

“I love you,” Lexa breathed, giving her a zealous kiss. Clarke was addicted to the way she said it. “And I ran you a bath.”

Clarke closed her eyes in appreciation. “That's better than love.”

“With bubbles.”

“I'm going to jump you,” Clarke informed her.

“You’re already on me,” Lexa smirked, walking into the bathroom and depositing her on the counter.

Clarke took in her face, smug and tender with eyeliner streaked down her cheek, and kissed her.

Lexa pulled away after a moment, and said, "Strip."

Clarke raised an eyebrow. “Is that a order?”

“Yes, Clarke,” Lexa said sharply. Her face shifted, hardening, and she seemed to occupy a different space, a different role, than before.

Understanding this, Clarke simply pulled off her shirt and panties. Lexa stared hungrily as she tiptoed to the steaming bath, gradually disappearing into the abundance of bubbles.

“I want to wash you.”

Clarke shrugged. “Do it.”

A challenge.

Lexa smiled in return, more predatory than anything, and rolled her sleeves up. Clarke was reminded of her first impression of Lexa: a tall badass with no heart. She knew how incorrect that initial assessment was now.

Lexa washed her hair first, making sure every strand was thoroughly scrubbed and rinsed. It was a relaxing sensation, and as Lexa went down, she moved on to dually wash and massage Clarke’s face and torso. Rain continued to fall outside, the sky a mottled grey, but she felt safe here. She sank back against Lexa.

Lexa’s hands trailed lower, and she whispered, “Get on your knees for me.”

Clarke smiled minutely and did, turning red.

“I have to wash everything,” Lexa stated, fingers dipping attentively between her.

Clarke gasped, turning her head to hide the sound, and squirmed backwards.

“Do you like that?” Lexa murmured.

Clarke made a indescribable sound, and in return, Lexa’s hands slipped away from where she needed them. “I expect an answer to my question, Clarke,” Lexa said.

“Sorry. Yes,” Clarke replied, slightly husky.

“You're forgetting again.”

“Yes, Lexa.”

Lexa brought a hand down on her ass. Clarke jerked, but the hit felt as addicting as their love. “No, Clarke. You know it isn't that.”

“Yes, Lexa… please.”

“Good girl,” Lexa praised.

Clarke looked down, flushed. She was bad at this, always needed to be led and encouraged into submissiveness. Clarke needed it, and she wanted it, but she fought it. 

Only Lexa seemed to understand why.

Lexa glided over her holes as Clarke sat on her open knees, vulnerable and trembling. She accidentally let a whimper escape at the touch.

“Stick your ass out further,” Lexa said. She smacked it once. “It is your birthday after all.”

Clarke leaned on the opposing other bath edge, eyebrows knitting together at this ominous statement. Lexa touched her ass reverently, ghosting over the curves of her before abruptly bringing her palm down. It stung.

“I think you need twenty five and one more for luck,” Lexa said, using her grip on Clarke’s hair to steer her closer still. “If you’re brave and can take it all, you’ll get a reward.”

Clarke chuckled. “I think it'll be fine, Lexa.”

Lexa scowled at her before she broke into an eerie smile. “You’re a brat, Clarke. Do you know what brats respond to best?”

“What?” Clarke asked, defiantly twisting her head to look at Lexa.

“Punishment,” Lexa responded, looking into her blue eyes before forcibly turning her head with the fist in her hair.

Clarke blinked at the sheer intensity of the feeling in her stomach as Lexa corrected her in such an intimate way. She was strong, and she used one hand to anchor Clarke, to force her to take it, and the other to take and take. Clarke panted as the sound filled the room, ass reddening considerably as her skin was softer, delicate there.

For Clarke, it hurt deliciously.

It felt all at once like a karmic cleansing and grand undoing. 

Lexa stopped halfway through, smoothing the inflamed skin. “Does it hurt?” The comment was partly mocking, partly a check-in.

“No, not really,” Clarke replied, all bravado.

“I guess I shouldn't take it so easy on you,” Lexa murmured, jerking her up by the arm. She held Clarke against her chest, hand wrapping loosely around her throat, and simply felt her heartbeat, which was rapidly accelerating. “Do you trust me?” Lexa asked.

The lights flickered, and they both turned to watch. When the lights went completely out, two candles saved them from total darkness.

“I do,” Clarke said.

Lexa smiled into her neck, inhaling Clarke’s sweetness, before pulling back and watching intently with dark, enlarged pupils as she carried on the task. Clarke closed her eyes, gasping and moaning in a continuous loop. When Lexa finished, adding a final swat out of nowhere, tears were bitterly biting the edges of Clarke’s eyes. She would never admit it, but while her ass throbbed, she felt impossibly better, lighter. Improved.

“You did so well, Clarke,” Lexa murmured in her hair, rubbing soap bubbles into her tanned ass. “And you get your reward now.” 

A hand slid between her thighs to push them open.

Lexa lowered herself to Clarke and took her with her mouth. She was a skilled lover, and Clarke moaned under her, dancing away only to be pulled back into Lexa’s mouth.

Lexa kept us this steady assault until she felt Clarke quaking, managing to stop right before she finished. She stood up.

“Lexa,” Clarke moaned at the loss, pushing backwards against nothingness. “Why?”

Lexa wiped her mouth, and smirked down at Clarke, not above the temptation to slap her ass again. “Because I'm in charge, Clarke.”

“Fine, you're in charge. But please…”

“No,” Lexa said, standing Clarke up and wrapping a fluffy purple towel around her. “We’re going to play a game.”

“What game?” Clarke asked. She was impatient to get back to the touching.

Lexa blew out the candles around the tub, and they stared at each other in the darkness.

“Hide and seek,” Lexa whispered.

“Who’s the hider and who's the seeker?”

“You’re the hider,” Lexa said, giving her a feather light kiss as thunder cracked in the background. “I'm the seeker.”

“What happens when you find me?” Clarke inquired, dropping her towel in the darkness.

It was impressive the amount of dark sensual promise Lexa managed to cram into “Wait twenty seconds, and you'll find out.”

Clarke skidded away at the words, her stomach dropping in a desperate, utterly arousing way. She ran out of the bathroom, going from memory alone in their pitch black hallway. She felt the wall, knocking into the edge of her largest painting, and tried to go in the direction of the furthest corner of the living room, but she tripped over the French vase, barely catching herself from falling.

“Time’s up,” Lexa growled somewhere off in the distance.

Clarke dashed the rest of the way to the wall, and held perfectly still, though her heart hammered around her chest erratically. She jumped when a crash of thunder shook their house, but didn't give away her position.

“Where can Clarke be?” Lexa mocked, much closer than Clarke had thought.

Clarke ducked down, crawling against the wall in the opposite direction, hoping to flee before she was so quickly captured. As something wrapped around her ankle, she kicked frantically in panic to no avail. A moment later, the something-- a hand-- was forcing her down to the floor.

“Gotcha,” Lexa whispered, parting her legs with a thigh as she climbed on top of her.

“You cheated,” Clarke insisted.

“Bullshit,” Lexa retorted. She gathered Clarke’s hands and held them above her head. “Are you going to cooperate with me or do I need to gag you?”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “You wouldn't.”

A brief power struggle later, Clarke’s mouth was neatly duct taped, subdued.

“Don't presume to ever know what I will or will not do,” Lexa warned her sternly.

Clarke said something under the duct tape that sounded suspiciously like “Fuck you.”

Lexa flipped her around, giving a squirming Clarke a few well-placed smacks on an already sore area, and began rubbing her clit, her known special spots, from behind abruptly. “You’re not doing the fucking here, Clarke. I am.” She slipped a finger around Clarke’s soaked hole, teasing, before plunging it in. “Even if you won't admit it, your body betrays how much you crave being treated like my little fuck toy.”

Clarke started moaning, unable to even act like she didn't want it, and backed up onto the fingers, using the inertia to fuck herself.

Lexa laughed, her eyes sparkling as she took her hand away. “You can't control this, Clarke. You know that, so embrace it. I'm in complete control of what happens here.” To remind Clarke of the chain of command, she brought a palm down on her red ass a few times.

Clarke made a pathetic-sounding whimper, giving over completely, which was Lexa’s favorite part to witness. She ripped the tape off-- smoothing Clarke's groan of genuine pain-- and she listened to the needy moans, the gasps, the curses that emitted from the girl.

“You look so innocent from far away,” Lexa said as she pumped into Clarke. Clarke’s blonde tresses shook, a mess, as she panted. “Does anyone else know what you turn into?” Lexa asked. Clarke shook her head. “That's because it's just for me. You can fool everyone else, but you know I know.”

It was only a short time before Clarke was straining, gasping in a telltale rhythm.

“Lexa, please…” Clarke breathed, nails scratching the floor. “I'm going to... please--”

“Don't you dare come,” Lexa replied, eyes narrowing at her. Clarke opened grey eyes and emitted a guilty gasp, and Lexa crouched closer. “Don't. Control yourself for me, Clarke, or I'll have to. Hold it, baby.”

Clarke did so with a cry and tremendous effort. In reward, Lexa drilled into her, evoking louder and far more violent replies.

“Good girl. Now. Now you can come, Clarke.”

Clarke cried out, arching her back, nearly mewling with the pressure. Her body lost control in the way Lexa was familiar with, limbs tightening and loosening, but she didn't stop, keeping up the pace through three subsequent orgasms she allowed.

When Clarke came, when she really came, she laughed, face ecstatic in ecstasy. It was no different this time, her body bending beneath Lexa’s, laughing so, so sweetly with all the intensity and ferocity of release. It was one of Lexa’s many favorite things about her.

Even in the darkest and filthiest of places, Clarke was her shining light, a beacon.

Still, Lexa didn't stop. “I know you can come more for me than that,” she said, rocking her fingers into Clarke’s g-spot.

Clarke could, indeed she did, and Lexa talked her through them, milked them out of her until the rain and her orgasms had all but let up. Finally, after climbing too many shocks to count, Clarke groaned in defeat and Lexa withdrew.

“Oh... god,” Clarke rasped, trying to sit up and slumping over, limbs too uncoordinated.

Lexa grabbed the silk blanket off the couch, and wrapped her in it, laying down on the floor next to her and pulling her into her chest. Clarke settled against her, pushing herself as close as she could. Lexa rubbed her back, whispering in her ear how well she did, what an exceptional girl she was, and Clarke slowly came back to the world.

“Happy Birthday, Clarke.”


End file.
